


Catching Up (The Running for your Life Remix)

by HYPERFocused



Category: due South
Genre: First Time, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1879824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HYPERFocused/pseuds/HYPERFocused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dangers (and rewards) of risk taking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catching Up (The Running for your Life Remix)

**Author's Note:**

> Remixed 3/26/2005.I don't even own the experimental hair.  
> A/N: Remix of [](http://doll-revolution.livejournal.com/profile)[**doll_revolution**](http://doll-revolution.livejournal.com/) 's [Running](http://wetblanket.kixxster.org/running.htm)

It isn't as if it's a new argument, but Ray just doesn't understand. When it comes to keeping Ray safe, Fraser will always act first and ask later. It's the one thing that's never warranted discussion or dissection, unlike the rest of his feelings for Ray.

Unfortunately, the man with whom he wants to hash this all out is the one person whose insight he doesn't dare request. Dieffenbaker's disdainful "Silly humans" look, and his father's "Well, I'm dead, son. I could afford to take all the time in the world to make my move. What's your excuse?" are no help.

"What the hell are you thinking, Fraser?" Ray asks him, though he barely gives him room to answer. Fraser is pushed up against the wall, Ray's breath hot on his face. Fraser can almost taste the spices from his earlier lunch.

"You're not stupid, we both know that. But you take such stupid risks with your stupid Mountie life. It's like you don't care. Or you think I don't care, and that's just the stupidest thing of all, Frase."

Before he grabs Ray and kisses him, Fraser thinks about how sometimes when you say a word too many times, it ceases to feel like a word at all. He's always been one for wildly inappropriate thoughts at inopportune moments.

Thinking seems to be overrated here, Fraser's body tells him, throwing it over in favor of giving in to the pure sensation of touching the man he loves. Wants. Needs.

Fraser's hand trembles as it moves across Ray's back, tracing the vertebrae that line Ray's spine like islands dotting a shore. The heat of Ray's body rises up through his well-worn cotton shirt. Fraser can't help moaning in response to all that beauty revealed just for him. Who needs words when they've got this?

Though this particular taste is new, like always, Fraser has to sample every flavor. Ray's teeth, his tongue, his lips. So many heady sensations merging into one. While Fraser tastes, Ray touches, hands tight in Fraser's hair. Then it's all a blur of senses. Open kisses, wet sounds, the unmistakable pressure of their erections finding each other's welcoming flesh. Fraser is moved to shudder as he grabs the lean globes of Ray's behind, pulling him closer. The sounds Ray makes are nearly Fraser's undoing.

Fraser still doesn't speak. He just moves, pushing Ray to the couch, shoving him not so gently until Ray is where Fraser wants him. He pulls on Ray's t-shirt, binding his shoulders and covering his face, but baring Ray's spun-gold chest, and sinewy arms.

Ray gasps for breath as Fraser licks a path down his ribs, stopping to thumb a hardened nipple. Soon discontent with his limited view, Ray tears his t-shirt off and tosses it away. He's wild and panting as he leans over Fraser, and it feels more like wilderness than Fraser can even remember.

Ray shudders and clutches at Fraser, and Fraser knows he's never been wanted like this. Nobody ever wants him as much in return. For once, they're evenly matched.

There is nothing so tender as Ray's elegant hand lifting to cover Fraser's, lithe fingers intertwining with Fraser's thicker digits. Steady, slow kisses along Fraser's hand to his thumb, and Ray's touch is full of grace. His mouth on both their wrists is a benediction. "Oh, Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray!" Ben whispers prayerfully, licking Ray's wrist now under the bracelet. He tastes metal and salt, and wonders if that will describe other, headier, tastes.

He can't help a final, sharp little nip. Then he stands, taking Ray with him, leading him along. He kisses Ray before he can voice a protest. "More, I need more," Fraser tells him. He strips them both with more diligence than decorum.

Both naked finally, Fraser presses Ray against the wall, lining them up perfectly. The shock of their erections rubbing together generates real sparks. Electric and energetic.

But there's no time for reflection, as Fraser sinks to his knees, mouth opening and swallowing Ray as deep as he'll go. Fraser's hands grip Ray's hips leaving bruises neither will mind.

There's a dull 'thunk' as Ray's head knocks against the wall, repeating the drumbeat of Fraser's mouth. Fraser's tongue swipes like the steel brush. The taste is almost beyond description, but like the apocryphal Inuit snow story, Fraser could come up with ten thousand words for "Ray".

Ray stiffens his limbs and holds his breath, sliding his hands along the wall. He leaves a damp path Fraser will see like a heat signature, even after it dries. Fraser's upward glance meet Ray's, and without sacrificing intensity, he circles Ray's testicles with his thumb, then presses farther back. Ray's moan is full and rich, just like the taste of him as he comes in Fraser's mouth.

Ray's loose and languid in his arms as Fraser's gets them both to the bedroom. Lying across Ray's thighs, he licks Ray free of ejaculate, feeling oddly like Dieffenbaker, who thankfully hasn't bothered them all night. Humming nonsense tunes to himself, Fraser breathes easily as Ray shakily cards Fraser's hair.

Suddenly sure, Fraser smiles. Ray's answering grin telling him 'yes', and Ray reddens, saying, "Do it, Fraser, do it, do me!"

No thought at all, just a full body shudder, as he digs in the nightstand for lubrication. He doesn't ask as he flips Ray over and onto his knees. Two fingers into that heat, and Ray's begging for more.

Fraser crooks his fingers as he pulls them out, making Ray cry out. Then he slides back in again, the way he's always wanted to. It's like coming home, somewhere new, someplace he's never left. Nothing has ever felt this good, and he's already sure he never wants to leave. Ray melts under him, then shoves back until they're both sharing the same strong rhythm. They've always been able to dance well together.

Every powerful thrust makes Ray slide farther across the bed. Ray uses the headboard to brace himself, and pushes up to his knees, taking Fraser with him. Fraser hears him gasp again, and knows this is just the perfect position. "Oh, Jesus, yeah." Ray's whisper is harsh, voice nearly gone. "Do it, take it, take it from me!"

Fraser is startled into stillness, except for his hands, which grip Ray's pistoning hips until Ray winces. Then he licks the sweat off Ray's darkening hairline. "Ray," he says softer than breath, as if he needs the word to live. Ray shivers underneath him.

Feeling nothing like his usual staid self, Fraser growls, thrusting deeper and wrapping his hand around Ray's erection at the same time. It's a difficult rhythm to keep doing well, but Ray's appreciative groans help him stay steady.

With the confidence Fraser loves about him, Ray goes after what he wants. Forward into Fraser's hand, and back so Fraser can fill him. "It's good, so good, love it, love you, love you, Ben!"

Biting the corded tendon on Ray's neck, Fraser shoves in harder. Ray comes, hard, and everywhere. Fraser's hand and bed are covered. The best kind of evidence. A few more arrhythmic thrusts and he's done, climaxing hard, and falling onto Ray's warm back. His heart pounds as he drapes himself over Ray. Ray's already slipped halfway into lassitude.

There's no movement for a while as they both wind down, then Ray rolls away to lie down next to Fraser. His fingers paint abstract patterns on Fraser's hip, then he slides to face Fraser.

"Now, look. Do not be thinking that I didn't appreciate this, okay? Believe me, I am appreciating the hell out of it. But do not be thinking either that I don't know an avoidance tactic when it's shoved in my face." His quick, blinding smile tells Fraser he isn't really mad. "Spectacular though it was."

Ray's slim, strong finger prods him in the chest, and Fraser wonders if he'll be able to feel it forever. He thinks about the way small touches - wind and water -- can carve paths in stone. It won't take a million years before Ray changes Fraser. For a mountain, Fraser is quite moveable.

"Don't you get it by now, Frase? You and me, we're a forever thing. Buddies, lovers, pirate-chasing psychos; it don't matter. You and me, we're karmic, we're destiny, we're always going to be there for each other, no matter what. So no more running, no more hiding, not between us, okay?" Another poke from Ray, and Fraser responds with a small nod. He's right. Fraser can feel it burning into him, deeper and more permanent than a tattoo.

Or maybe not a tattoo. Maybe he's an egg, and Ray's doing his best to help him hatch. Tapping his shell until Fraser cracks, sobbing not from fears come true, but from the pain of coming out into the open. He lets Ray pull him onto his chest, Ray's fingers combing soothingly through his hair like he's fluffing up new feathers.

Fraser wants to say something. Defend himself, tell Ray he hasn't been guilty of subterfuge, just a bit too protective of his own heart. But it hits him just then, finally, irrevocably that Ray gets this. He's always understood. Ray is Fraser's own heart, and Fraser doesn't need words to tell him.

Ray's legs wind like pretzels around Fraser, and the arm not stroking his hair presses against Fraser's back. It's better than buddy breathing, more than a rescue. Ray is giving him all the strength he needs. Fraser knows now that he will always do this. Morning breaks, not with regrets or recriminations, but with renewal.


End file.
